Beauty and the Beast
by Suki-Itami
Summary: Kenny had no love in his heart and was cursed for it. For 20 years, he lived alone, hating his own hideous appearance, not caring that his only chance to recover his beauty was love. But that was before he met Stan Marsh...
1. Prologue

A blonde haired boy in a dark red suit sat slumped in his wooden throne with his narrow blue eyes glaring daggers at the people dancing around the ballroom floor in front of him. Everyone in front of him were his servants, people who attended to his every whim, but he never showed them the same respect they showed him. The only reason he even allowed them this mock ball was because his advisor, Butters, had suggested it as a way to boost morale amongst the servants. If it wasn't for the fact that morale was the only thing keeping them going, he would've shot the idea down.

A boy with black hair, Ike walked up to him with an old woman dressed in rags following him. "Master, this woman needs a place to stay for the night."

His glare shifted to the old woman in front of him and then to the redhead. "Send her away."

"But master, she's just an old woman, and the night is harsh."

"I don't want an ugly old hag in this castle!" He yelled. "Away with you old woman!"

The woman looked up at him from behind strands of her ragged gray hair. "Do not be deceived young man, for true beauty is found within."

Ike nodded but kept his mouth shut. He was in enough trouble as it was for even letting the woman in, he could already tell, saying anything else would just add fuel to the fire.

"True beauty?" He scoffed. "Go away, return to whatever hole you crawled out of!"

"Are you sure about that?" The woman asked.

"I've never been more sure." He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

Suddenly, the old woman glowed, sending the blonde to the edge of his throne, and her appearance melted away into a tall, beautiful enchantress. "A curse upon you then."

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees before the enchantress. "Forgive me, I had no idea."

"There is nothing to forgive."

He looked up at her. "You will not curse me?"

"I will."

"Please," he begged, "if I had known–"

"True beauty lies within…but I sense none in you. No love in your heart of ice." She waved her hands at him, and suddenly a great pain past through him. "If you cannot see beauty in front of you, then your outer beauty shall be taken from you. Until you can learn to love and be loved in return, you shall forever a beast."

He threw his head back and cried out in pain as his body went through the grotesque transformation. Brown fur grew out of every pore of his body, his teeth grew long and sharp, and claws grew from his hands and feet. When the transformation was complete, he roared at the space where the enchantress once was and then looked around. Ike had been turned into a tea cup, and everyone else had been transformed as well. A candelabra, a small clock, and a tea pot, to name a few.

A glowing red rose appeared in front of him. _"Learn to love before the last petal falls, or your life __**will**__ end without any beauty in your heart,"_ the enchantress' voice resonated in a final warning.


	2. Great Day

_20 Years Later…_

"I'll be back, Kyle," a black haired man called as he slipped his black Vans on.

A man with a head of curly red hair poked his head out of the garage, his face covered in ash. "Where're you going?"

"I'm gonna go pick up some new sheet music." He waved back at his friend.

Kyle smiled and waved at him with the wrench in his left hand. "Okay. Be careful."

He nodded and walked out the door as his pulled his dark brown jacket on over the white long-sleeved shirt and the very top of his blue hip hugger jeans. Ever since his sophomore year of high school, he'd played the violin, loving every moment of it. A lot of the music he owned he'd had since beginning to play, and playing the same things over and over was getting boring. True, he went to the music store every other day or so to buy or borrow new music from the owner, a friend of his he'd had ever since middle school, but he rarely bought any - his job at the bar didn't pay much.

Easily, he ignored the many strange looks he received from both the men and women of South Park, a small town situated in the mountains, as he entered the music store. Everyone thought his fixation on music was weird and unusual, but they never thought that until he had graduated from high school, thinking that he just enjoyed band class. The only people who didn't think it was weird were Kyle and the owner of the music store, Wendy.

"Hey there Stan," the black haired woman in a purple hoodie and blue jeans, Wendy, greeted when he walked in the wooden door.

"Hey Wendy." Stan smiled. "Any new music?"

"Not since yesterday, I'm afraid," she said as she took back the music he handed to her, something he'd borrowed only a few days ago.

He shrugged then. "Okay," he turned to a shelf, knowing exactly what he was looking for, "then I'll just borrow this again."

Her mouth formed into a smile. "_Beauty and the Beast _again? You've borrowed this like six times."

He smiled as well. "It's fun to play. The chords are complicated yet simple, elegant yet crude. It's exactly how I imagine the tale."

She chuckled and glanced at the sheet music for a moment. "Well, then you can keep it."

"Really? How much?"

She shook her head. "It's free. Consider it a gift from a friend."

His smile widened and he leaned across the counter Wendy was behind, giving her a hug. "Thank you!"

She giggled, a light blush present on her face. "It's nothing." She waved at him as he turned to leave. "Have a good day!"

"You too," Stan said back before walking out the door. With his smile still on his face, he held the old, yellowed sheet music close to his chest. Today was already turning into a great day! He now owned his favorite piece of sheet music and he didn't even have to pay a penny for it! What an amazing start to the–

"Hey there Stan." A dark haired man in a blue jacket and dark blue skinny jeans stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, a smirk gracing his pale face.

Stan rolled his eyes and brushed the man's hand off. "Hi Craig."

"So," Craig trapped the other boy in his arms, "wanna do anything later?"

"Wow…" Stan easily escaped Craig's arms. "Um, as great as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass up that offer."

"Why is that?" His eyes narrowed, he wasn't happy that his advances were being spurned…again.

"I promised Kyle I'd help him finish his work."

"That crack head?"

"Kyle's not a crack head! He's a smart guy, and his invention is going to get us out of this town!"

Craig laughed. "I'm so sure…"

Grinding his teeth together, Stan kept on walking, only to find Craig cutting him off again and that he plucked the sheet music from his hand. "Hey! Give that back!"

Craig studied the music and then laughed again. "_Beauty and the Beast_? Ha!" He tossed the music aside, towards a puddle of mud - Stan managed to snatch it before the wind could catch it. "Music and fairy tales, that's all you ever seem interested in anymore."

Stan shot a glare at Craig. How dare he try to destroy his sheet music! "You don't like either, then…?"

"I don't need to," Craig swooped in to be just inches from Stan's face, "when I look this great."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Look, I'm gonna get going."

"Not until you promise to meet me tomorrow."

"For what?"

"Well, I'm not gonna ruin the surprise."

"Right…" Stan inched his way around Craig. "See ya then." He took off at a full run back to him and Kyle's house.

Seething, Craig turned to a shaking blonde haired boy in a wrongly buttoned gray jacket. "Dammit Tweek, is there something wrong with me? Why does he continue to reject me?"

Tweek's head twitched to the side. "Gah! N-No! There's n-nothing wrong with you! You just h-have to give him some time."

Craig turned to glare at Stan's disappearing back as a small explosion erupted from the house he shared with Kyle. Craig and Tweek both couldn't help but laugh along with the people around him. Kyle Broflosky really **was** a crack head.

…

"Kyle?" Stan threw open the garage door and waved the lingering smoke from his face as it poured outdoors. "Kyle? Are you okay?"

Kyle coughed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He banged a screwdriver against the large metal machine in front of him, mad that it had failed again. "This damn thing…it keeps screwing up!" He groaned and hit his forehead off of the machine.

Stan walked forward as the smoke cleared, seeing his best friend covered from head to toe in ash and oil. "You need a bath."

"I know," Kyle sighed and opened a hatch in the side of the machine, "but I need to finish this before I do anything else."

Stan shook his head and handed Kyle a wrench when asked to. "Will you be able to get it working before the fair?"

"I'll make sure of it, even if I have stay out here all night." He slammed the hatch back and screwed the seal into place. "Okay, let's see if it'll start up this time." He reached up and pulled down a red lever.

The machine suddenly made a lot of noise, groaning and whirring, and both boys thought it was going to blow again. Just as suddenly, the noise smoothed out into a gentle hum and the machine was running smoothly. Stan chuckled and clapped Kyle on the back.

"Awesome, it works! But…what does it **do**?"

Kyle slipped off his jacket, showing his arms and the light green t-shirt unaffected by the ash oil that covered the rest of him. "If it works, it'll wash, dry, and fold my jacket."

Stan nodded, impressed. "That would be cool!"

"Yeah, it would." Kyle threw his filthy jacket inside of the machine and hit a button after he closed a door. Anxious, the boys watched the machine for about five minutes before the button Kyle had pushed down popped back up with a _ding_. He pulled down the door and smiled as he pulled out a washed and dried jacket. "It worked!"

"Awesome!" Stan began jumping up and down excitedly with his best friend in celebration. The machine worked, which meant that it was only a matter of time before they would be able to leave South Park! It really was a great day!

…

The sun was low in the sky as Kyle attached the small flat tow with his machine on it to the back of his motorcycle. He had showered and eaten only an hour ago, but he needed to leave right then to make it to the town where the fair was in time for registration. He stood up when he was sure that the hitch and the belts holding the machine down would hold.

"Okay then," he said with a nod, "I think I'm ready to go."

Stan handed over Kyle's helmet. "Dude, call me whenever you get there so I know you made it."

Kyle nodded and sat down on the seat of his motorcycle. "Don't worry, I will." He pulled his helmet on and started up the bike. Just before he took off, he looked over at Stan and saluted. He revved the engine and left towards the direction of the woods.


	3. Embarrassing Proposal

Kyle slowed his motorcycle down to a stop and placed one foot on the ground to balance him and the bike. He was at an intersection, in the center was a wooden sign pointing in four different directions; one pointed to South Park, one to another town, and two towards the same town, the one he needed to go to. The one pointing straight ahead said two hundred miles, while the one pointing right said one hundred. It was a hundred mile difference, so why did the road to the right look like the road less taken…? Maybe it was structurally unstable for cars. But he had a motorcycle, so regardless; he'd be able to make it through.

With that in mind, he whipped the bike to the right and kept riding. The path was older, nearly all dirt, and was completely over hung with dead or dying trees. Potholes lined the road on either side, forcing him to have to drive straight down the middle. Was no one taking care of the road? Kyle could now tell why that was the road less taken.

_Still,_ he thought, _I'll get there faster._

He kept riding down the road at his normal speed of fifty five, only slowing down if he had to swerve around a pothole or part of a downed tree. Aside from that, everything was going well; the road was smooth as could be.

After another ten miles or so, Kyle slowed down to swerve around a large tree trunk and suddenly hit a pothole that he was unable to see. The front wheel caught and came to a sudden halt, sending Kyle flying off of the bike and crashing into a puddle of mud that was inside of another pothole.

Groaning, he pushed himself up with his left arm. "Fuck." He tore his helmet off so he could see in the dark as the sun completely set and the headlight from his motorcycle faded to dark. His right arm felt like it was on fire and he found that he couldn't move it without a sharp, severe pain running through it.

He slowly stood, not caring that he was completely doused in mud on the right half of his body. He gripped onto his right arm as he limped back to his motorcycle; he pulled a small flashlight out of the satchel attached to the right side of it and shined it at the front tire. Completely blown. Dammit. It wasn't like he'd be able to drive with his banged up arm anyway, he just didn't want to leave his bike in the middle of the woods.

"Guess I'll call up Stan," he muttered. Stan wouldn't like hearing that he crashed in the middle of the woods and was unable to drive his bike because of the wheel and his arm, but he had to call him. Kyle reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed his cell phone to call Stan, but when he slid it open, a notice popped up that said there was no service. "Dammit!" He stuffed his cell phone back into his pocket. "What now?"

He pulled his green hat from his pant pocket and pulled it down over his head as the winter air began blowing. _I should've just taken the long way. There might've been a gas station or a hotel by now._ He sighed and gripped back onto his arm as the pain continued coursing through it.

He sat down on the edge of the motorcycle's seat and sighed. Surely there was a hotel or something further down the road, but the problem was that he didn't know how long he'd have to walk before reaching something or someone that would help him.

The howling of a wolf pack brought Kyle out of his thoughts. He jumped to his feet; that sounded really close. He grabbed the keys to his motorcycle and stuffed them into his pant pocket. He didn't figure anyone would come by, so surely his invention would be fine for a little while he went to get help.

With his left hand still gripping onto his right arm, he began walking in the direction he'd been riding. Hopefully he'd come across some place soon, especially with the wolves in the trees nearby.

As he walked, he looked around with scared eyes as he heard the rustling of leaves and saw flashes of fur. Wolves? He began running, scared that they try to attack him, praying that something would come up soon. That's when the wolves jumped out from behind the trees and began chasing him.

"Shit!" Kyle pushed his legs to as fast as they would go, his blue converse smacking against hard against the dirt as he ran. He wasn't sure how long it took, but finally, he found himself pushing against a metal gate, trying to swing it open so that he could get to the gothic castle beyond. "Open up!" He screamed, unsure if anyone could hear him.

He turned his head in time to see the wolves running at him, ready to lunge. He gave another push on the gate, this time it opened and he fell down on the other side and kicked it closed with his foot, hearing the lock fall into place when he did.

One of the wolves caught the bottom of Kyle's pant leg in its jaw. Still screaming, he kicked at the nose of the wolf until it released him and he scrambled back until he made his way to his feet. Terrifyingly, he stared at the wolves until they finally dispersed back into the woods before turning into the castle. Without realizing it, he left his hat on the ground from when he fell down.

…

Unwillingly, Stan opened his eyes as his alarm clock sounded off at nine the next morning. He hit the "off" button and with tired eyes looked at his cell phone. No calls or text messages. Kyle should be there by now; did he forget to call…?

He sat on the edge of his bed and clicked the speed-dial for Kyle's cell phone. He waited as the phone rang four times before it went to voicemail: _"Hey, you've reached Kyle. Leave a message at the tone."_

Stan sighed as the tone to record a voice message sounded off. "Kyle, did you forget something? …Well, look, if you don't call me back in an hour, I'm gonna come looking for you, alright? So call me back as soon as you get this message. Bye." He clicked the "end" button and stood up, stretching as he did.

He opened his closet door and pulled out a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans. Today was going to be a lazy day as long as Kyle called back and reassured him that he was alright, he wasn't going to go meet Craig, he **really** didn't want to. Instead, Stan grabbed his violin out of its case and looked at the two page sheet music in front of him, the song Wendy gave him yesterday, _Beauty and the Beast_.

He played it beautifully, not missing a single note, crescendo, or quick rest. About halfway through the song, someone beat on the door with their fist loudly, catching his attention. He sighed deeply when he had to suddenly cut off during the main chord of the song; he sighed again when he realized that he knew who was at the door before even moving to answer it.

"I'm coming," Stan said as he set his instrument on the desk next to his metal music stand. He looked out of the peephole of the door, his suspicions only being confirmed when he saw Craig standing there. "Wonderful," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

With even less willingness than when he woke up, Stan opened the door, finding Craig barging his way in. The dark haired man sat down in a chair at the white washed desk Stan had set his violin on, swinging his legs around to try to rest them on top of the violin. Stan dashed forward and managed to save his instrument, but unfortunately not the bow for the violin, Craig's legs snapped it clean in half.

"So, babe," Craig said, pretending like he didn't see the clear rage on Stan's face at breaking the violin bow, "what do you think about marrying a stud of a man?"

Stan smirked defiantly. "I would love to marry Kyle."

Craig ground his teeth together. That little…! How dare he mock him? Before he blew up, he took a calming breath and said, "No, no, not that lunatic. I meant," he grabbed Stan's wrist and brought him closer to him, "a handsome, strong, man. Like me." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Stan made a face and slipped his wrist out of Craig's so that he could put his violin back into its case. Craig was starting to annoy him with the constant flirting and proposals; no one could blame him for trying to annoy him in return. "Look, Craig," he ducked under the other boy's arm when he tried to pin him against the wall, "you're a really cool guy," he was trying to boost his ego to get him out of the house, "and I think you'll be good for someone."

Craig followed Stan to the front door and put his hands to either side of Stan's head, his back against the door. "Well, you're perfect for me."

"I'm sorry Craig," Stan grabbed the doorknob and twisted, sending Craig tumbling to the ground outside, "but you're just not my type."

Stan couldn't help but laugh as Craig fell face first into a puddle of mud and Tweek cued up a small band to start playing a wedding march. He shut the door, still laughing, and walked back over to where his broken bow was sitting. The laugh disappeared, replaced by anger. Just great! It'd take forever to save up for a new bow since his job sucked! "Godammit!"

Instead of throwing it away, he put it back in the case to show Kyle. Maybe if he showed him the bow when he got back, he'd help him buy a new one. Oh yeah, what time was it? He looked at his cell phone. An hour has gone by already? Kyle still hadn't called back.

He clicked the speed-dial again and held the phone to his ear. This time, it went straight to voicemail. _"Hey there, you've reached Kyle. Leave a message at the tone."_

"Dammit," Stan cursed into the voicemail. "Kyle, I don't know if you got my last message, but I'm heading your way right now. If you can, call back **as soon as** you get this message!" He slammed his phone shut and grabbed his brown jacket. He stuffed his dark brown wallet into his back pocket and walked out into the garage, grabbing his black motorcycle helmet before whipping the white sheet used to protect his cherry red motorcycle from Kyle's experiments off and dropping it to the ground.

Stan pushed his bike out of the garage and slammed the door shut. He pulled on his helmet, ignoring the looks he was getting from the people still hanging around from Craig's embarrassment. He threw his leg over it and started it up, quickly revving the engine before speeding off in the direction Kyle had rode off in.


	4. The Beast

Just as Kyle before him, Stan stopped his motorcycle at the intersection and looked at the wooden sign in the middle. He saw the two separate signs for the same town that Kyle was heading for. Knowing that his friend would take the shorter route, Stan turned right and sped down the road.

The further he went down the road, swerving around potholes and downed trees, he began wondering if Kyle even took that route. Surely he would've turned around after a point, especially with his invention hitched to the back of his motorcycle. _This road is insane,_ he thought as he swerved around yet another tree trunk.

A few minutes later, he stopped and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to make sure Kyle hadn't tried to call him, but found that he had no bars out in that area. Stan narrowed his eyes. "Crap." He stuffed his cell phone back into his pocket. "Kyle, please be okay," he muttered as he kick-started the engine again.

He continued down the road, imagining every situation that could've happened and praying none of them were right. Before he could even get his bike up to speed, he spotted the small flat bed Kyle had hitched to the back of his bike and slowed to a stop next to the fallen tree he saw it next to.

Stan slipped his helmet off and swung his leg from around the other side of his motorcycle, putting the kickstand into place as he did. He rested his helmet on the seat and walked over to the abandoned black motorcycle. It was definitely Kyle's, even without the machine hitched onto it, he could tell from the wrench decal on the side. He knelt down next to the front tire, finding it completely and totally flat.

"Great," Stan said harshly at no one, "he crashed!" He looked around and saw a black helmet with the same wrench decal that decorated the bike resting in the mud Kyle had landed in the night before. He stood up and grabbed the helmet from the mud, inspecting it. Other than a few scratches that weren't there before, it looked unscathed. Maybe that meant he was okay too! Stan could only hope that he was right.

He ran back to his bike and slipped his helmet back on as he kick-started the engine once again. He slowly served around Kyle's motorcycle and continued down the road slowly, thinking that maybe he'd find Kyle on the side of the road somewhere further down. Seeing as he hadn't been contacted, that was the only thing that made sense to him.

"Kyle!" Stan yelled out through his helmet and over the sound of his bike. "Kyle, where are you?"

He pulled to a stop next to a large metal gate sitting in front of a black gothic castle. Leaving his helmet on the seat of his bike, he climbed over the gate when it wouldn't open and picked up Kyle's discarded green hat. "Kyle…" He looked up at the castle, a little afraid to go in but knowing that he had to look for his best friend anywhere he could possibly be.

Stan took a breath and walked forward to the large dark wood door, having to use most of his strength to push it open. He froze in the doorway, needing time to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden dark. When they did, he saw a long red carpet running from the large double doors all the way up the black brick stairs, which split after a point, a set going one way and another going the other. Dark wood doors lined each side of the main hall behind spaced black brick pillars extending from the floor to the high ceiling.

"This isn't creepy at all," Stan muttered sarcastically. He took a step inside and let the door fall shut behind him with a loud, echoing noise. His heart beating out of fear and anxiety, he took a deep breath and walked forward. "Is anyone here? I'm looking for my friend Kyle! If anyone's here, it'd be great to know if you've seen him!"

"I think he could be the one," a deep voice said almost excitedly.

"Oh," another, higher pitched voice chimed in, "I don't know Eric, i-it's possible, but…"

Stan whipped around when he heard the voices. "Who said that? Is someone there?" He twisted his head around, but didn't see anything but a lit golden candelabra next to a small, brown, wooden old-fashioned clock. He shook his head and turned back to the staircase. "I'm hearing things," he muttered.

He whipped around to find himself facing a side staircase when he heard something metallic climbing them. A dim light danced on the black brick wall of the narrow staircase as it slowly made its way up. Though he didn't like the looks of anything in the castle, he ran after the light and noise. "Hey! Wait! Can you help me?" When he was near the top of the stairs, the light flickered out and he stopped, unable to see much since the only light came from the small amount of sunlight pouring in through a narrow window. He glanced out of it, seeing snow falling softly to the ground. "Damn."

"W-Who's there?" A familiar voice asked timidly from somewhere deeper into the room.

Stan looked forward, barely able to see the thick metal bars forming the front of a cell. "Kyle?"

"Stan?" Kyle's face, paler than usual, suddenly appeared from the other side of the bars. He was on his knees like he had been sitting and didn't want to stand up to greet his friend.

Stan dropped to his knees in front of his friend, his hands on the bars. "Kyle, are you okay?"

The redhead shook his head from side to side, he was visibly shaking. Whoever or whatever threw him in the cell scared him. "Stan, you have to get out of here!"

"Not without you." Stan saw Kyle's right arm, resting in a makeshift sling, then. "What happened to your arm?"

"I-It's broken, but please just go! Before it finds you here!"

"'It?' What're you talking about?"

"Stan, there's no time to explain! Just **go**!"

"No Kyle, not without you!"

Suddenly, a furry clawed hand latched onto Stan's shoulder and spun him around, causing his back to be against the bars of the cell. "What're you doing here?" A booming voice roared.

Stan's eyes widened, unable to see much else in the dim light except for angry blue eyes and what he could've sworn were large fangs. "I…I came for my friend! Let him go!"

"No," the voice roared, "he's my prisoner!"

"But his arm's broken! He needs to get to a doc–"

"NO!"

Stan pressed up against the bars of the cell as his eyes widened even further. He was absolutely terrified at this point, unsure if whatever was yelling was going to attack him. Behind him, he felt Kyle grip onto the back of his jacket with his one good hand. Shaking down to his core, Stan thought quickly, wondering if there was anything he could do to get his best friend out of the cell and to a doctor.

Suddenly, he got an idea. "Let **me** take his place!"

The blue eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"I will take Kyle's place as your prisoner."

"Stan no," Kyle protested as he pulled on his friend's jacket, "you can't."

The blue eyes fell to the side for a moment before looking back at Stan and Kyle. "Fine. But you have to promise to **never** leave to castle grounds."

"…Okay, I promise."

He stalked across the small area, avoiding the light, and threw open the cell door.

Kyle quickly ran out of the cell and dropped down next to Stan on the floor, catching hands with him. "Stan, you don't have to do this."

Stan nodded. "I do Kyle, you need a doctor."

"But Stan–AH!" Kyle yelled out as the mysterious figure grabbed the back of his jacket and literally dragged him down the stairs. "Stan!"

"Kyle!" Stan turned to the narrow window the sunlight was coming through and watched as the figure, which looked furry and grotesque, almost like a gargoyle wearing a cape in a way, threw Kyle out of the gate and next to Stan's motorcycle, now lightly dusted in snow. Stan fell back down to his knees and pressed his forehead against the cold black brick wall as tears flooded his eyes. That was his best friend, someone he'd known and loved like a brother for years, and he didn't get to say goodbye.

The figure walked back into the room with his clawed feet making a light tapping sound as he did. He stopped in the doorway and just stared at the tormented man in front of him.

"Master," the golden candelabra lit up, "maybe you should offer him a room."

"A room?" He looked down at the candelabra.

"Of course. He should at least be comfy since he's gonna be here for a while."

The figure groaned. "Fine, whatever," he muttered and took a few steps into the room, still avoiding the light. "Come on," Stan turned his head to look at him, "I'll show you to your room."

Stan stood up and turned to the figure. "Step into the light. I wanna see your face," he said harshly. He was far angrier with whoever this stranger was than he had been with Craig only hours ago.

Hesitantly, the figure stepped into the light, showing a furry russet brown beast in an open torn red shirt, torn red pants, and a long purple cape. His sharp bottom teeth jutted out to overlap his upper lip, and his hands and feet were clawed. "Are you satisfied?" He asked when he saw Stan's eyes widen again. "Are you happy that you got to see the face of The Beast?"

Stan cast his eyes to the side, silent. He was still scared, but The Beast spoke more softly than he had earlier, almost gently. Before he could say anything, the room was filled with the sound of fabric being whipped around; Stan looked up and saw that The Beast had turned around.

"Come with me, I'll show you to your room." He picked up the candelabra from the floor and began walking.

After a moment of hesitation, Stan followed him down the stairs back to the main hall of the castle. As they walked, his thoughts swam back to Kyle, wondering if he would be okay getting back to town.

…

_I know I've been updating this story really fast, but I'm really on a roll with it. ^.^ Anyway, please continue reviewing, it makes me happy._


	5. Lunatic

Stan followed The Beast as he turned to walked up the staircase. He could hear The Beast saying that he hoped he liked it in the castle and saying that every corridor except the west wing was available to him.

The mention of a forbidden area brought Stan out of his thoughts. "Why can't I go to the west wing?"

"It's forbidden!" The Beast turned and roared.

Stan took a step back at the roar, once again scared that he was going to be attacked. "Uh, okay," he muttered.

With a huff, The Beast kept walking up the stairs leading to the east wing, mumbling to the candelabra, "What do I do?"

"Talk to him," the candelabra mumbled back.

"So, um, what's your name?" He looked back over his shoulder and at the scared man following him.

"…Stan," he said hesitantly. "What's your name?"

"Ke–It's unimportant," The Beast said quickly. He really didn't think his name was relevant after all the time he had spent as a beast.

Stan sighed. Was The Beast going to be a mystery to him while he was here? He really didn't want that, but figured there was no point in pushing it. Maybe he could learn more later. He swiveled his head around to look at the various torn portraits lining the hall they were walking down. The pictures differed, though they were so torn apart that there was no distinction of the person they once showed. Every fourth picture or so, though, there would be the piercing blue eyes and part of a head of spiked blonde hair that once showed a beautiful man, Stan thought. He wanted to stop and get a closer look, but The Beast wasn't slowing down and he didn't want to get left behind.

The Beast stopped at another, smaller, double door and swung it open. "Your room."

Stan walked into the room, stopping just past the doorway so he could look around. A full sized bed stood next to the dark wood wardrobe, a large window-door led to an old balcony that Stan wasn't sure he'd ever go on. Other than that, and the pillows and blankets on the bed, nothing else of interest decorated the room.

"Master," the candelabra mumbled to The Beast again, "invite him to dinner."

The Beast cleared his throat. "You will join me for dinner." Stan turned to protest, but was interrupted before he could. "That is **not** a request!" He slammed the door shut and stalked off.

Tears stinging the back of his eyes, Stan collapsed onto the bed and gripped at the blanket. How could things have turned around so badly from just yesterday? When he thought him and Kyle would finally happily move out of South Park and to a far away town.

…

Kyle pulled Stan's motorcycle to a stop in front of the bar his friend worked at. Driving the bike with only one working arm had been a feat, definitely something he'd remember forever. With much difficulty, he pulled the helmet off of his head and dropped it next to the bike on the ground. Right now, where he left it didn't matter. The Beast had Stan!

He ran inside of the bar, throwing open the door, screaming, "It's got him! It's got Stan!"

Everyone, including Craig and Tweek, sitting next to a fireplace talking about the earlier embarrassment, looked at Kyle like he was insane. Most of the people just rolled their eyes and ignored him, but a few asked what he was talking about.

"A beast!" Kyle yelled as he stepped further inside of the bar. "A beast is holding Stan prisoner!"

"A beast?" Someone asked with a laugh, setting off a round of laughter that spread like wildfire.

"Yes, a beast!"

The owner of the bar came from the back, looking none too happy. "Broflosky, where's Marsh? He's late."

"A beast has kidnapped him!" Kyle yelled again, trying to see if **someone** would listen to him. "It's holding him prisoner in its castle!"

"Did it have claws?" Someone jeered.

"As big as your head!"

"Was it covered in fur?" Another person chimed in.

"Yes! It was matted and knotted!"

"What about a large, ugly snout?" Someone in front of the bartender laughed.

"Hideous!"

Craig, laughing so hard that his sides began to hurt, had someone grab Kyle and shove him to his knees in front of where he was sitting on a high-backed leather chair. "Well," he leaned forward onto his knees, "a beast you say?"

Kyle waited until the hands that had sent him to his knees disappeared. "Yes Craig, a beast! It's holding him prisoner in its castle!" He ignored the caffeine and alcohol induced laugh of Tweek behind him. "Please Craig, you have to go help him! I can't do anything because of my arm." He gestured to it.

Craig glanced at his stooge with a shared look of amusement. Kyle was more of a crack headed lunatic than they originally thought! "But of course I'll help," he said almost sarcastically though he covered it well.

"R-Really?" A smile crossed Kyle's face.

"Yes." Craig looked over at the two men who had pushed Kyle in front of him. "Now, go see a doctor. I'll take care of the big bad beast." That time, he didn't bother hiding the sarcasm. "Boys, show him to the door!"

The two grabbed Kyle again, this time throwing him back outside into the snow. He gripped onto his arm as he slowly stood back up and walked around the square of the town. The sarcasm in Craig's voice had been heavy, he didn't believe Kyle, that much had been obvious. And the laughing he could hear coming from the closing bar door told him that no one else believed him either.

"Somebody," he cried out into the silent square, "help me! Someone, please!" He stumbled around, the pain of his broken arm becoming almost too much for him to bear. "Help!"

…

Craig sighed as his laughter subsided and he took another drink of his beer. The whole business with Kyle a moment ago was just odd. He knew that the redhead was insane, but running into the bar yelling about a beast holding Stan prisoner, that was too much. The man really needed to be committed to an asylum.

Suddenly, a light bulb flashed on in Craig's mind as Tweek began laughing about how insane Kyle was. "Shut up," he said harshly, "I have an idea!"

"Gah! W-What is it?" Tweek's head twitched to the side along with the hand that was holding his beer, spilling a little of the liquid onto the floor.

"Stan keeps rejecting me–"

Tweek laughed. "It's more than rejecting, h-he has completely d-demolished you!"

Craig threw the empty beer bottle in his hand at Tweek, only continuing when it hit the blonde's head. "Anyway, for some reason Stan cares deeply for that lunatic, so maybe the only way to get to him is to threaten Kyle's very life."

"G-Good idea! What's your p-p-plan then?"

A devious smile spread across the dark-haired boy's face as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "I think I'll call Damien up on his debt."


	6. Dinner

Stan sniffed and wiped the tears from his cheeks as he sat up and looked out of the window, it was very nearly nighttime. The Beast expected him for dinner soon, but he wasn't going, he already knew that much. If he had to, he'd starve just to avoid that monster.

The doorknob turned and the door swung open slightly, catching Stan's attention. He blinked in confusion when he saw no one walking through the door. "W-What?" Was the place haunted or something?

"Oh dear," he looked down to see a white tea pot with a light gray lid hopping over to the edge of the bed with a light blue tea cup following it, "I'm afraid we're down here."

"Huh?" Stan's eyes widened in surprise, but he slid off of the bed to sit on the floor next to the talking china. "Did…Did you just talk?"

"But of course." The tea pot turned and poured some hot tea into the tea cup beside it. "Would you like any sugar?"

"Um… No, I'm fine without."

"Okay then." The tea cup began hopping over to him. "Careful Ike, don't spill."

"I won't." Ike stopped at Stan's knees and waited to be picked up.

Stan picked up the tea cup slowly, afraid that he was going to hurt it, and took a drink of the tea. Oolong, his favorite. "This is great. Thank you."

The tea pot nodded with a smile. "Glad you like it. My name is Pip, by the way."

"I'm Stan."

"I'm Ike!" Ike announced excitedly.

Stan chuckled. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Hey, do I get no introduction?" Stan whipped around at the voice to see the wardrobe suddenly had a face.

Whoa! "I've been in here for a while now, you had plenty of time."

"Yeah, but it looked you wanted to be alone."

Stan's lips tightened into a thin line. It was true, he wanted to be alone, but now that Pip and Ike were here, he didn't anymore. They were such nice…pieces of china, far better company than The Beast earlier.

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry," Pip apologized to the wardrobe. "Stan, this Token."

Token did a mock bow, looking like he was going to fall over when he did. "Nice to meet you, Stan."

"Uh…same here…" Stan looked between Pip, Ike, and Token. "So, why are you guys…talking? Alive, I mean…? Are you…uh," he was trying to remember the specific word from the sci-fi shows Kyle always watched, "androids?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," Token laughed.

"It's nothing you should concern yourself with," Pip said with a smile. "Anyway, the master is really a sweet guy, you should get to know him better."

Stan rolled his eyes and sighed. Great, the subject found its way back to The Beast…! "I don't wanna get to know him better. I can never see my best friend again because of him," his eyes narrowed and he began grinding his teeth, "that's all I need to know."

"You should really give him a chance, you might find that you like him. I hope you come to dinner, the master would be happy about that." Pip suddenly chuckled then. "Oh dear, I need to go and get dinner on the table. Pardon me. Come along Ike."

"Coming." Ike hopped along after the tea pot out of the door.

Stan watched as Pip and Ike hopped out of the door and it close behind them. Dinner… He was hungry, but his desire to never see The Beast was stronger than that hunger. He wasn't going to dinner, no matter what anyone said.

"So," Token's doors swung open to show dresses and suits hanging there, "which one so you wanna wear?" Stan stood up as Token reached for a brown suit with one of the doors. "This one would look good on you."

Stan shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm not going."

"You have to, it's expected."

"I don't care." He sat down on the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I won't go."

"Suit yourself." Token put the suit back on the hanger and shut the doors.

A moment later the door opened a crack again, this time to the small clock Stan had seen earlier when he first entered the castle. "Um, dinner is served," it said in a timid voice.

…

The Beast paced nervously back and forth in between a fireplace with a brightly lit fire and a long dark wood table. Pip stood next to the candelabra on the mantle above the fireplace, staring at their master with concern. He had never seemed so nervous and anxious before in his life.

"Where is he?" He roared at nothing and no one.

"You must be patient," Pip said reassuringly.

"Yeah," the candelabra chimed in, "you can't be too excited. Butters has gone to get him now."

"Besides, he's lost his best friend and freedom all at once."

"Master, have you thought that this Stan guy might be the one to break the spell?"

"Of course I have! But…he's just…so handsome, and kind…and I'm, well, look at me," The Beast sighed deeply.

"We can help him see past what you see," Pip offered.

"We must," the candelabra said as he leapt across the gap to the table with Pip.

The Beast looked at the candelabra. "How?"

"Look sir," Pip chimed in, "all you need to do is impress him. Show him that you're willing to be a nice, gentle guy."

"But not whipped," the candelabra added as an afterthought. "You must still show your tough side."

"Stand up straight!" Pip instructed; The Beast did so.

"Give a playful, sexy smirk!" The candelabra added. The Beast smirked, showing the two rows of pointed teeth lining his mouth. "Uh, too much. You don't wanna scare him."

"Be kind!"

"Give him plenty of compliments!"

"Be witty!"

"Flirt as much as you can!"

"But above all," Pip and the candelabra said at once, "you must control your temper!"

The door to the dining room began opening then. "He's coming," the candelabra said excitedly.

The Beast stood up straight and put on the sexiest - least frightening - smirk he could manage, only to have it drop when Butters waddled in. "Butters? Where's Stan?"

"Well, uh," Butters began bumping the pieces of wood serving as his hands and arms together, "h-he's…not…coming."

"WHAT?" The Beast burst through the dining room doors and up the stairs to the east wing. Once he reached the door leading to Stan's room, he came to a sudden halt and yelled, "Why didn't you come to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry!" Stan yelled back.

"When I invite you to dinner, I expect you to come!"

"No!"

The Beast growled and nearly yelled again, but stopped when he felt something pulled at the bottom of his pants; the candelabra. "What?"

"Softer," the candelabra instructed. "You'll only scare him using that tone."

The Beast sighed deeply and asked through his teeth, "Would you **please** join me for dinner?" He asked nicely, he thought, so surely Stan would join him.

"No, I don't want anything to eat!"

Really? After asking nicely he still wouldn't join him? "Fine!" He roared as loud as his lungs would allow. "Then you can stay in there and **starve**!" He turned and began stomping back towards the west wing, stopping for a moment to look at Butters, Pip, and the candelabra. "If he won't eat with me, then he doesn't eat at **all**!" He kept walking, stomping down the stairs of the east wing and up the stairs to the west wing.


	7. The West Wing

_The Beast threw open the doors to his room and stalked right past the broken bed, broken chair, and torn portrait, his attention on the small table covered with a torn white sheet. Two things sat on it: a glowing wilting rose under a glass container and a beautiful silver hand mirror with the raised design of a rose on the back. He grabbed the mirror and flipped it around, seeing himself in the reflecting side._

"_Show him to me," he demanded. For a moment, the mirror glowed and then he saw Stan sitting on the edge of his bed with Token standing next to him._

"_Come on,"_ Token encouraged, _"give him a chance. If you get to know him, you might find that you actually like him."_

Stan looked over at the wardrobe with a deeply sad and angered expression carved into his face. _"I don't** want**__ to get to know him. Did you even hear the way he yelled at me?"_

"_Oh, come on, he's just on edge."_

"'_On edge?' The way he yelled…he's nothing but a monster!"_

The Beast's face dropped. A monster?

"_He's not that bad, really. Besides," _Token put on a small smile, _"they say love blooms–"_

"_Love?"_ Stan seemed appalled by the very idea of loving The Beast. _"Look at him! He's a monster, a beast! And who could ever love a beast?"_

Having seen and heard enough, The Beast rested the mirror back down on the small table with the reflecting side down again. He sighed sadly, his eyes becoming forlorn as Stan's words rang through his head. "Why am I even trying?"

…

"Ugh," Stan groaned as his stomach growled loudly again for what seemed like the millionth time within the past few hours. Ever since he turned down The Beast's offer to eat dinner, his stomach had been sounding off nonstop. "Maybe I can sneak to the kitchen for a snack," he muttered, not caring that Token could hear him.

He stood from the edge of the bed and walked over to the door, opening it only a crack to make sure no one was going to stop him. When he saw no one and nothing, he slipped out of the door and closed it quietly behind him. The hall in front of him was completely empty, not even Pip or Ike was around. They were probably down in the kitchen too, they were pieces of china after all.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, Stan walked down the stairs leading to the east wing and then down the grand staircase to the first floor. He looked around, trying to find which door led to the kitchen, but having a hard time. The only door he was sure the kitchen wasn't through was the open door leading to the staircase to the prison block.

Where could the kitchen be? He opened a few doors, finding a lounge area and a dining room before he opened a third door where he found Pip talking with Butters and a candelabra. All three looked over at him as he walked in, closing the door behind him. Now he decided to show up?

"Um," Stan looked at the ground, "sorry if I'm interrupting, but I'm really hungry. Could I get a snack or something?"

"No!" Butters said quickly, trying to sound like he really wanted to uphold what The Beast had told them. "Back to y-your room! Since you wouldn't dine with the master, you're not permitted t-to eat tonight!"

"Come on Butters," the candelabra jumped off of the small table and over to Stan, "we can't just let him go hungry." He bowed slightly. "I'm Eric Cartman, most just call me Cartman."

Stan smiled a bit. "Hey Cartman. So, uh," he looked up at Pip, "is there anything left that I could eat?"

"But of course!" Pip turned to the now excited looking stove. "Get cooking, we have a hungry guest!"

As the stove began cooking, Pip and Cartman led Stan into the dining room with Butters trailing behind complaining. When he was ignored, he said, "F-Fine. Give him a glass of water and a bagel."

"God Butters, you're so stingy." Cartman rolled his eyes as he pulled out a tall chair for Stan to sit in. "He's going to eat until he bursts!"

Stan chuckled. "Maybe not until I **burst**, but close to it."

Pip smiled and hopped onto the table in front of Stan. "It should be out shortly, it just had to be reheated really."

Just as Pip said, the food came shortly after he had said it would, being wheeled out on huge trays and carts. They had really been expecting him to eat with The Beast and for them both to eat a lot. Cartman hopped onto the table next to Pip, telling Stan that he had to try everything at least once, and that's exactly what the boy did. He dipped his finger in the pudding, took a spoonful of the macaroni, grabbed a small piece of the cut spiral honey ham, and then did the same with the turkey. He continued grabbing the solid foods and then spooning everything he couldn't grab into his mouth, loving every flavor that touched his tongue. Before long, Stan let out a breath to signal he was finished.

"That was great!" He smiled.

"Are you sure you can't eat anything else?" Pip asked just to be sure.

Stan shook his head, the smile still there. "No way. If I eat anymore, I'll explode."

"Wonderful!"

"G-Good." Butters climbed onto the table. "Now, o-off to bed with you."

"Nope." Stan shook his head. "I'm too wide awake to sleep now. I would actually like to see the castle, I only got to see a little bit around my room. Besides, I've never been in an enchanted castle before."

"Enchanted?" Cartman chuckled nervously.

"W-Who told you that?" Butters asked. "Was it Cartman?"

"I would never…!" Suddenly, Cartman and Butters were exchanging hits, yelling at each other about who told Stan the castle was enchanted.

"Guys, guys," Stan yelled to get their attention, "I figured it out myself."

"Oh." Butters cleared his throat. "Anyway, y-you're not going to walk around this castle, the master wouldn't like it. You're g-going to bed, gosh-darn-it."

Stan smirked, knowing from dealing with Craig how to persuade Butters into being okay with it. He leaned forward, his chin resting in his hand, and poked the clock in what he assumed was the stomach. "Why don't you show me around? I'm sure there's no one else that knows more about the castle than you."

Butters chuckled bashfully and bumped his fists together. "W-Well, that **is** true… Hehe… Okay then, just a-a quick tour."

"Great." Stan's smirked turned into a smile. That was almost too easy.

He stood up and followed as Butters and Cartman walked out of the dining and into the main hall. It was then that Butters began rambling on about the architecture of the castle, then about the suits of armor that had been hiding behind the black brick pillars lining the main hall. Stan didn't hear a word of it, impressed by the castle itself and the fact that the suits of armor turned their heads to look at them as they passed by.

"As you were," Butters said to the suits of armor, causing them to turn their heads to look straight ahead again. Stan was amazed by the fact that he didn't find the armor weird at all, but after the tea pot, tea cup, clock, wardrobe, and candelabra, it wasn't really all too odd.

The trio walked up the stairs and went to turn to the east wing again, but Stan looked up the other set of stairs. Without thinking, he began climbing them, stopping halfway up. "What's up here?"

Butters and Cartman stopped and looked back, darting in front of Stan when they realized that he was heading up the stairs leading to the west wing. "Nothing!" Cartman said quickly.

"It's just the west wing," Butters said right after Cartman, "n-nothing of interest up there. Actually, it's all very **un**interesting."

"So **that's** the west wing!" Stan said with a devious smile. Time to find out why it was forbidden. He tried taking a step forward, onto the next stair step, but Cartman and Butters - who was getting a dirty look from the candelabra - blocked his way. "Come on, let me pass…!"

"Wouldn't you rather see another part of the castle?" Butters asked quickly.

"No, not really."

"What about the weapons room? Or garden?" Cartman asked just as quickly. One of the rooms just had to appeal to Stan. "What about the music room?"

Stan looked at Cartman and Butters with a wide, excited smile. "You have a music room?"

"Of course!" Butters exclaimed. "With lots and lots of sheet music!"

"A piano," Cartman added, "violins, a harp, flutes, so many instruments!"

"Could you guys show me?" Stan asked excitedly. The thought of a music room being in the castle made the place seem a little less like a prison.

"Of course." Butters smiled, hooking his arm with one of Cartman's. Two began walking happily towards the music, glad that they had talked Stan out of his interest in the west wing…or so they thought.

The moment the two turned their backs, Stan turned back to the stairs leading up to the west wing and silently climbed them. At the top, he nearly froze, almost afraid to continue. Broken statues of warriors and gargoyles lined the hall on either side, along with more torn portraits. Every room, it seemed didn't have or needed a door, either having a collapsed roof or floor. He continued to the end of the hall, where a dark wood door stood half open, he could see a soft glow coming from it. What was that?

He gently pushed open the door and walked forward, his eyes immediately draw to a portrait of a man with pale skin, piercing blue eyes, and spiked blonde hair. It was torn apart by what could've been claws, the face undistinguishable. He raised his hand to move the torn fabric of the portrait back into place, but stopped when the same glowing that drew him into the room caught the corner of his eye.

Stan turned and saw a wilting, glowing rose underneath a glass container. He walked over to it, amazed by it. How did it glow? Why was it glowing? He lifted the glass container off of it and reached out to brushed his fingers across the petals, only to stop when he heard the familiar roar of The Beast.

His eyes went wide and he jumped out of the way when The Beast ran over to the rose and quickly put the glass back over it. "What are you doing here?" He roared at Stan.

"I'm sorry, I was just curious," he apologized as quick as he could, hoping that he wouldn't be killed for his curiosity.

"Do you **know** what you could've done?" The Beast lashed out, missing Stan but hitting the broken bed pole he'd been pressed against only a moment ago. "Get out!"

With those words, Stan turned and dashed down the hall and the stairs. He was going to leave, regardless of the promise he had made, being around The Beast was too much for him to take. He ran past Butters and Cartman, both asking where he was going.

"Away from here, away from The Beast!" Stan yelled as he threw open the double doors leading outside.

"But your promise," Cartman reminded him.

"Screw the promise! It's not worth it!" Stan ran out into the snow as fast as his legs would carry him, through the gate and back towards South Park.


	8. The Asylum Owner

_**A/N:**__ Well, I'm going to try to update as much as possible today since my college starts the new semester tomorrow. –sigh– So starting tomorrow, updates won't be nearly as frequent._

…

Howling, that's what Stan heard and that was what kept him running. The wolves were right behind him and had been ever since he ran from the castle. He knew they were getting closer because he was beginning to slow down, his exhaustion with running as fast as possible was catching up with him.

_Gotta keep running,_ he thought frantically, trying to drown out the sounds of the pursuing wolves. _I have to make it back to South Park!_

Just as Kyle's motorcycle and machine came into sight, one of the wolves lunged and latched its jaw onto the neckline of his jacket, sending Stan tumbling face first into the snow. He turned onto his back and began scrambling backwards towards the abandoned bike, knowing that Kyle always carried a switchblade in one of the satchels hooked to the side of it.

Taking the opportunity, another one of the wolves jumped at Stan, aiming to keep him pinned to the ground. Screaming, Stan threw his arms up in front of his body in a final defense and then braced himself for the impact of the wolf's claws and teeth…but nothing. Instead, the wolf yelped as something larger than it knocked it out of the way with a roar.

Stan moved his arms back to his sides and saw The Beast's back as it began hitting the wolves to the side, roaring at each and every one of them as if trying to scare them off. The wolves clawed and bit his arms and neck, trying to find the best way to take him down. The Beast just grabbed the wolves that attacked him and threw them against the trees, roaring as the pain from the claw marks and bite marks began to hit him. At last, the painful roars scared away the wolves, sending them running back into the forest.

Panting, The Beast collapsed into the snow and blacked out. Stan stood up and turned to keep running back towards South Park, but stopped after only a few steps. He looked back at The Beast concernedly. He didn't **have** to save him, he could've left him to be torn apart by the wolves.

Realizing that, Stan sighed and turned around. He rested one of The Beast's arms over his shoulders and began dragging him back to the castle with much difficulty. Slowly, the castle gate came back into sight and Stan was actually glad to see it, The Beast was pretty heavy.

Stan kicked the gate open, finding it opening without protest that time. As he continued towards the castle doors, they swung open to Cartman, Butters, and Pip looking at the two concernedly.

"What happened?" Pip asked as Stan walked past.

"I'll explain later, but I need some hot water, a towel, and some bandages," Stan demanded as he continued towards the parlor room he'd seen earlier trying to find the kitchen. He placed The Beast down on a high backed chair in front of the fireplace where Cartman was starting a fire, and suddenly The Beast began to wake up.

Stan dropped to his knees, unable to stand because his legs had been shaking so bad from carrying The Beast all that way. He saw him coming to and rested a hand on his paw. "Hey, are you alright?"

Ignoring him, The Beast began to lick at a cut from the claws of one of the wolves. Stan told him to stop and wait so he could clean out the wound and bandage it, but he was still ignored. Butters and Pip brought the things that Stan requested, placing them next to the black-haired man's legs on the ground. He soaked the towel with the water and grabbed The Beast's arm, trying to press the towel to the wound, but The Beast kept pulling his arm away.

"Hold still!" Stan demanded. "Stop licking it!" Finally, he caught The Beast's arm and pressed the towel to it, though it was a little too hard since he was still struggling.

The Beast roared in pain when the towel touched the wound. "That hurt!" He yelled, pulling his arm away again. If it hurt that much, he didn't want to deal with it, he'd just lick it clean.

"It wouldn't have hurt if you would've just stopped moving!" Stan argued, angry that he was being ignored when he was only trying to help.

At first The Beast was unable to say anything, too stunned that Stan had actually spoken back, but he managed to say, "Well this," he gestured to his wounded arm, "wouldn't have happened if you hadn't run off!"

"I wouldn't have run away if **you** hadn't scared me!"

"Well," he had to think for a moment, "**you** shouldn't have been in the west wing!" A triumphant smile crossed his face, Stan couldn't argue with that!

"Well you should learn to control your temper!"

The Beast's mouth dropped open. He actually called him on that? He was used to his servants telling him to control his temper, but he never expected Stan to say anything about it. "Well, uh…" He couldn't think of anything, so he just leaned back in the chair with a huff.

Stan grabbed The Beast's arm again. "Now hold still, this is gonna hurt a bit." He gently pressed the towel to the wound, earning a soft growl but nothing more, so he kept dabbing the wound with the towel, cleaning it. "By the way," a light blush crossed his face, "thanks for saving me. I would've been killed if you hadn't shown up."

"It was nothing," The Beast replied with a small smile.

…

A man with black hair and blood red eyes sat down across from where Craig and Tweek were sitting in high backed wooden chairs at a rounded table near the back of the bar. He wasn't happy to be called to South Park in the middle of the night, he'd had to find someone to cover him in the asylum while he was gone, and that alone had taken a few hours.

"Tweek said that you were going to make me repay my debt to you," he said with narrowed eyes. "Doesn't that seem a little cruel, considering the marriage didn't even work out…?" Craig had helped him marry a woman named Bebe a year ago, but the marriage fell apart after only a few months.

"I still helped you marry her," Craig pointed out, "that's the point Damien."

Damien sighed. "Fine. How much do you want?"

"I don't want your money, I need your help."

"With what?"

"Surely word of the insanity of Kyle Broflosky has reached you."

Damien chuckled. "It has. In fact, some of my patients revere him as one of the only truly insane persons I have not committed."

Craig couldn't help but crack a smile. A crazy man worshipped by the insane, how fitting! "Well, his best friend, Stan Marsh, is a truly beautiful man. I want him as my husband, but he keeps rejecting me."

Tweek started laughing an alcohol induced laugh. "Y-You should've seens him fall i-into the muds earlier!" His laugh was cut short as Craig smacked him on the back of the head.

"Anyway," Craig continued, "the way I see it, Stan would do anything to protect Kyle, so maybe if Kyle's insanity was finally taken into consideration, then Stan would marry me to protect him."

Damien smirked. "I see what you're suggesting, but I technically can't do anything until you actually say it."

"Well then," Craig also found a smirk, "I believe that you should commit Kyle Broflosky on the grounds that he is completely insane. And that doing so will guarantee that Stan will become my husband," he added as if it was an afterthought.

The smirked dropped from Damien's face and he began shaking his head as if disgusted. "Oh Craig, that goes against everything I was taught, the very vows I had to take to finally own the asylum. That plan is evil." He laughed upon seeing Craig's face drop and smacked his palm off the table. "I love it! There's just one more thing though."

"Which is?"

"I get to commit Broflosky regardless of Stan's answer."

Craig laughed loudly, he loved the way Damien's mind worked. "Of course! In fact, I'd prefer it!"

Damien clasped his hand with the dark haired man's. "Then you have yourself a deal!"

…

Kyle climbed onto Stan's motorcycle with his backpack securely latched onto his back. "If no one else believes me, I'm going to go back myself." He tried moving his right arm again, out of the sling and into a tightly wrapped Ace bandage, and found that he still could barely move it without a sharp pain running through it.

Ignoring the pain, he pulled on the helmet and kick started the bike. He pulled out of the driveway and drove off towards the woods again, not realizing that shortly after entering the woods, Craig and Tweek approached him and Stan's front door.

"Stan," Craig called as he beat on the door, "Kyle! You home?" He looked through one of the darkened windows, finding no one home at all, and even saw Stan still had the same sheet music on the stand from the other say.

"Gah! L-Looks like no one's home!" Tweek pulled on his jacket and turned around to leave. "G-Guess we should just h-head back!"

"Oh no you don't!" Craig grabbed the back of Tweek's jacket and pushed him into a snow bank that had gathered in the corner between the front wall of the house and a wall of the garage. "You're staying here until Stan and Kyle return! The moment they do, you're to come get me!"

"B-But…!"

"No buts, you're staying **right here**!" Craig turned and walked back towards the bar.

"Gah!" Tweek's head twitched to side, and suddenly more snow from the roof of the house fell on top of him. "C-Crap!"


	9. The Music Room

_A Few Days Later…_

The Beast looked from the balcony of his room out over the garden where Stan was leaning against a tree feeding a small group of birds at his feet. The Beast's arm was still wrapped in the bandages from his injury fighting off the wolves, and he had changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of red-orange pants that weren't torn at Cartman's instruction.

He sighed contentedly as he watched Stan. "I don't understand it, why am I feeling this way?"

Cartman looked up at The Beast confusingly. "Master?"

"Would do I do?" He looked down at Cartman, wanting to plead for help, but that would just be weird for him to do. "I'm afraid he still thinks I'm a monster."

"He doesn't," Cartman reassured, "otherwise he might've tried to leave again."

"Yeah," The Beast smiled, "you're right."

"Well, go down there and talk to him! Get to know him a little better, and let him get to know you!"

He thought about it for a minute, gazing down at Stan as a small bird landed on his shoulder. Finally, a small smile crossed The Beast's face and he turned around to walk downstairs. Maybe Cartman was right, he should try to get to know Stan a bit better since he was starting to fall in–no, that couldn't be. They'd only known each other for a few days, that couldn't be what The Beast was feeling, he was sure of it.

He walked out into the garden and saw Stan crouched down feeding the birds gathered around him. He looked content and almost happy for the first time since arriving at the castle. When Stan noticed him standing there, The Beast took a few steps forward, into the garden and the sunlight of the afternoon. "How do I do that?"

Stan smiled a bit and ushered for him to come over to him. "It's easy, really." He took some of the birdseed out of a light gray bag he was carrying. "Hold out both hands near the ground."

The Beast did as he was told and Stan put some of the birdseed in The Beast's paws and on the ground in front of him. Most of the birds flew away, scared at his appearance, but one brave bird pecked at the birdseed on the ground and hopped into The Beast's hands to eat what was there. His mouth formed into a wide smile, no animal had ever gotten so close to him since his transformation.

Stan smiled wide too. He was happy at how happy The Beast looked in that moment, and at the fact that he'd help him look that way. Another bird flew over and landed on Stan's shoulder again, he reached over and let it hop into the palm of his hand. He showed it to The Beast, saying that soon he was sure birds would just fly to him. Stan stood up, resting one hand on The Beast's shoulder as he did, and released the bird into the air.

The Beast smiled softly as he watched Stan walked over to the tree he'd been leaning against. It was surprising, for once, Stan didn't seem nervous or scared of him, and had even touched him without shaking. Stan turned and smiled at The Beast before slinking behind the tree, his face red.

Stan pressed his forehead against the tree trunk, his face was burning. What were these emotions he was suddenly feeling? It was almost scary for him to be feeling the way he did about The Beast. Just two days ago he was saying that he could never love a beast, and now…now he was beginning to feel something far more greater than anything he'd ever felt for anyone, even Kyle and he'd been close to him for years.

Stan grabbed onto the front of his jacket and then looked around the tree trunk, laughing as he saw a group of birds had all landed on The Beast's head, shoulders, and arms. He looked nervous as if he didn't want to move for fear of the birds pecking at him or flying off. That moment just **begged** to be ruined.

Quickly, he gathered a snowball into his hand and chucked it at The Beast, it hit him in the face, causing the birds to scatter. He glared over at Stan for a moment, his eyes softening as he saw Stan laughing triumphantly. Using both arms, he gathered a vast amount of snow, showing the dead grass beneath, and held the huge snow-boulder above his head.

Stan's eyes widened at the sight. "Holy crap," he muttered and quickly grabbed another snowball, throwing it at The Beast's face again. "Take that!" He laughed even louder as the snow-boulder fell down on top of his head, knocking him to the ground. Stan couldn't have imagined how far **that** would've knocked him back.

On the railing of the balcony, Cartman was laughing as Pip and Butters were simply chuckling. The scene below them was simply too perfect! Stan and The Beast were getting along wonderfully! It was only a matter of time, as they figured it.

"It's amazing," Pip chuckled, "how two days ago they could barely stand to look at each other and now they're having a snowball fight."

"Y-You're right Pip," Butters said with a smile, "it **is** amazing!"

"It's only a matter of time," Cartman announced excitedly. "Finally the spell will be broken!"

"Don't get your hopes up," Pip said. "If something happens and he's not the one to break the spell, you're going to be completely disappointed."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a downer Pip be optimistic for once."

"Oh dear, I suppose you're right."

"S-So should we do something to help th-this along?" Butters asked, hoping that maybe someone had an idea.

Cartman shrugged. "Unless the master asks for help, we should probably just stay clear."

Pip nodded. "Indeed." The three turned their attention back to the two still having their snowball fight in the garden.

…

Smiling, The Beast watched with Cartman as Pip, Ike, Butters, and the stove showed Stan how to make a chocolate soufflé - Stan was having a hard time of it too, it seemed. He sighed happily, not moving his gaze from the man as he said, "I wanna do something for him, something special."

"Well sir," Cartman hopped onto his shoulder, "I know what you could do."

…

"Come on dude," Stan groaned as he was being led somewhere, he wasn't sure where, "I don't like being blindfolded."

"Don't worry, it's just a little bit further," The Beast reassured with a smile. "You'll like it."

"Okay…" Stan continued walking in the direction he was being pulled. He heard a door opening and he was pulled a bit further before being told to stand in the center of the room. "Can I take this thing off yet?"

"No," The Beast opened a curtain, "not yet." He opened a few more curtains, Stan looking in each direction he heard the curtains opening in. Finally, The Beast walked back over to Stan. "Okay, you can take the blindfold off."

He pulled the blindfold down and his mouth formed a wide smile. The first thing he saw was a violin and a violin bow sitting on a small round table between a metal music stand and a cello, sitting on a stand of its own. He turned around, seeing a gold harp, a silver flute, a black grand piano, along with other instruments. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books of sheet music, beginners books, and blank sheets for original compositions. The light pouring through the tall windows - one made of stained glass, designed like a man playing the cello against a dark blue background - reflected off of the white marble floor, lighting up the room beautifully.

"Wow," Stan breathed, "this is…amazing!" He laughed excitedly. "I can't believe this…this music room! It's….wow!"

"You like it then?" The Beast asked excitedly. Seeing Stan's face light up like that was perfect, he knew that the man would probably be in that room a lot, but it would be worth it to see him look so happy.

"I love it!" Stan exclaimed with a wide smile.

The Beast spread his arms out to his side and spun around happily. "Then it's yours!"

Stan's mouth dropped open in shock. There was no way he could be serious about just **giving** him the music room. "R-Really?"

"Of course." The Beast smiled.

Smiling again, Stan threw his arms around The Beast's neck. "Thank you so much!"

Hesitantly, The Beast gently wrapped his arms around Stan's waist, not saying anything in return, just loving the feel of the man in his arms. He only wished that he could always have the pleasure of holding Stan in his arms.


	10. Beauty and the Beast

_**1**__**st**__** A/N:**__ Woot! An hour lunch break! ^.^ I'm not sure how, but the cheap Butterfinger flavored coffee of Ivy Tech and the Cheez-Its have made the creative juices flow faster, so yaay! (Healthy lunch, I know, but I'm a broke college student, what can I say…?)_

_**2**__**nd**__** A/N: **__I __**did**__ start working on this during my lunch break, but I couldn't type it all out in time… –sigh– Stupid Psychology class!_

…

A beautiful violin chord poured out of the music room, where Stan was playing Apocalyptica's _"Beautiful."_ He had been practicing that single song nearly nonstop since The Beast left the music room a few hours ago, determined to learn and perfect it by the time the week was done. The only time he stopped was when his fingers began giving him some trouble with the unfamiliar violin but the problem was remedied in only a minute, and then he was playing again.

Given a task by The Beast that he was more than willing to carry out, Cartman hopped into the music room and up to Stan. "Hey!" He tried yelling over the music, but finding that he couldn't be heard. With a huff, he jumped onto the small table the violin normally sat on. "Stan!"

Stan stopped playing and looked over at the candelabra. "Oh, hey Cartman. What's up?"

"Go upstairs and get changed." Cartman pointed at the door and a drip of wax fell from the candle serving as his left hand, not offering an explanation as to **why** Stan had to change.

"Uh," he lowered the violin from where it had been resting in the crook of his neck, "why?"

"The master requested it." Cartman crossed his arms. "I was also told to tell you that it was a surprise."

Stan sighed deeply. Two surprises in one day? The Beast was going to give him a heart attack if the next surprise was as big as the music room had been. "Okay then." Gently, he returned the violin to the place it had been sitting in on the table where he had picked it up from and followed Cartman up to his room, where Token stood with his doors open, waiting.

When Cartman left, Stan looked at Token confusingly. "What's going on? Is this something I should know about?"

"Don't worry about it," Token reassured as he reached for the same brown suit he had a few days ago. "Besides, you've been wearing that same t-shirt and blue jean combination for two days, you need a shower man."

Stan's eyes narrowed. "I don't need a shower, my clothes just need to be washed."

"Regardless," Token held out the brown suit, "change into this."

Stan snatched the suit and sighed. "Doesn't this seem a little formal to just be wearing to go back downstairs and play the violin?"

Token chuckled. "Don't worry; it's perfect for what you're going to be doing."

With a confused eyebrow raised, Stan pulled off his t-shirt and blue jeans and changed into the brown suit Token gave him. He messed with the dark blue tie for a few minutes, not entirely comfortable with it around his neck. He wasn't exactly used to wearing suits, the only time he ever wore one before in his life was when his older sister, Shelly got married, and even then, he didn't feel comfortable. Having a tie around his neck, constricting its movement, was a virtual hell for him.

"I look stupid," Stan groaned, "and I feel weird."

Again, Token chuckled. "I think you look fine, now we need someone to fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Stan demanded. True, in the past few days he'd gone without brushing it, turning it into a nearly unkempt mess, but he didn't think it was too bad. When he got sick, his hair could turn into something resembling the Seiyans' from _Dragon Ball Z_, and he wasn't entirely sure how.

"It's a mess," Token said flat out. He really wasn't one to soften the blow when it came to the truth, but it was better that way. He opened the door a crack and summoned someone - a hat rack, Stan noticed with a sigh - to fix the man's hair.

Within moments, the hat rack had combed and slicked Stan's hair down to the point that he looked like a character right out of _The Outsiders_. "Um… Could I go without all of the hair gel?" He asked with a blank stare directed at the mirror.

The hat rack nodded and quickly sprayed Stan's hair and took all of the hair gel out of it. It simply combed his hair that time, leaving it looking like the simple hairstyle the twenty-year-old normally had - straightened flat against his head to the top of his ears and parted down the middle with a few random strands sticking into the air. Stan nodded in approval and did a three-sixty in the black full-length mirror. He still thought he looked weird in the suit but figured there was no point in arguing the matter. He was going to be wearing the thing for some reason.

"Well," Stan looked at Token, "how do I look?"

Token smiled. "You look great! The master will be happy!"

Stan sighed. Of course him dressing up was for The Beast, though why would he even want him to dress up in the first place? Were they going to attempt another dinner together? (_No, that wouldn't make sense,_ he thought, _we've been eating together just fine…_)

Cartman opened the door and ushered Stan out of the room. "Come on."

With his stomach doing nervous flips, Stan followed the candelabra down the hall only to be stopped at the top of the eastern stairs. He asked why he was being stopped but found his answer a moment later when he saw The Beast stop at the top of the western stairs wearing a dark red suit. He actually looked handsome like that, Stan realized with a light blush.

As he saw The Beast move, Stan began walking down the staircase and stopped on the small area where the staircase split into two in front of him. The Beast smiled and said, "You look…" He chuckled nervously. "You look great."

Stan smiled softly. "So do you."

The Beast held out one paw, which Stan took with one of his hands, not caring that the paw completely enveloped his hand. They walked down the staircase into the main hall as Butters cued a violin and a cello to begin playing. Stan's smile widened as he began dancing with The Beast, both because he felt wonderful twirling around in The Beast's arms and because he recognized the song - _Beauty and the Beast_, his favorite.

Sitting on the end of the banister of the staircase with Ike and Cartman, Pip smiled and began singing,

"_Tale as old as time_

_True as it can be_

_Barely even friends_

_Then somebody bends_

_Unexpectedly"_

Stan, still smiling, twirled out to be arms length away, his hand still linked with The Beast's. It felt right to be doing this with him, far more than any of the girls in South Park he had dated through high school. Could it be possible? Did he love The Beast?

"_Just a little change_

_Small to say the least_

_Both a little scared_

_Neither one prepared"_

The Beast wrapped one arm back around Stan's waist as the man folded back into him. He smiled widely as Stan rested his head against his collarbone, feeling a warmth he'd never felt before well up inside of him. His heart was racing at the contact, and he knew that he loved him.

"_Beauty and the beast…_

_Ever just the same_

_Ever a surprise_

_Ever as before_

_Ever just as sure_

_As the sun will rise"_

As The Beast released him for a moment as he was twirling, Stan did a quick three-sixty and caught The Beast's hand again.

"_Tale as old as time_

_Tune as old as song_

_Bittersweet and strange_

_Finding you can change_

_Learning you were wrong"_

Hands linked, The Beast's arm around Stan's waist, and Stan's hand resting on the arm around his waist, the two somehow found their way out of an open, tall window-door leading to a balcony sitting over a small frozen pond.

"_Certain as the sun_

_Rising in the east_

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the beast"_

The Beast released Stan, holding his hands arms length away from him with a soft smile. Stan returned the smile, his eyes showing the same happiness in them. They both wanted the other, but were unsure if the other wanted him.

"_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the beast…"_

As the violin and cello faded out with the end of the song, Stan suddenly began laughing with some tears running down his face. The Beast's face became concerned and he cupped Stan's face in one of his paws. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe this," Stan laughed and wiped the tears from his face, "it's amazing. The music room, the song, the dance…" He laughed. "I never even thought to imagine someone doing all of this."

The Beast's smile returned when Stan said that, he was happy to see Stan so happy, if not overwhelmed. "I just thought that…maybe you deserved it. You've been so good to me lately, even though I was more than rude to you when you first got here."

Stan smiled for a moment and then sat down on the railing of the balcony with his hands resting on his knees. "To be honest, at first I stayed because of the promise, but now…I see this place as more of a home than South Park ever was. It's strange, I've only been here a few days."

"Then," The Beast sat down on the railing next to Stan, "what's wrong?"

He looked over at The Beast with worry lacing every feature of his face. "I'm worried about Kyle. His arm was broken when he left, and I'm just worried that something happened to him."

At first, The Beast didn't know what to say to him, unsure if it would help, but he grabbed Stan's hands as he stood up and pulled the man up from the railing. "Come on, I want to show you something."

…

Hesitantly, Stan followed The Beast into his room and over to the small table with the mirror and the rose sitting on it. The Beast picked up the silver mirror and handed it to Stan. "It's a magic mirror. Just tell it who you want to see, and it'll show them to you."

Stan looked into the mirror, feeling a little silly as he did, and said, "Show me Kyle Broflosky."

The mirror lit up and showed the redhead walking away from a cherry red motorcycle coughing and clutching his right arm. The motorcycle had run out of gas seeing as Kyle had forgotten to fill it up before leaving South Park. There were bags under his eyes, his skin was pale.

Stan's eyes went wide at the sight of his best friend. "Kyle! He's sick, and he's trapped in the snow!" Suddenly, Kyle dropped to his knees and fell face first in the snow. "I-I need to go!" He turned to run out of the door, but stopped after only a few steps when his promise ran through his mind. "Oh…" He looked back at The Beast with pleading eyes.

His mouth formed a straight line, unwilling to let Stan go but knowing it would be for the best. If he didn't let him go, Stan would never forgive him because his best friend would die without help. "Go. I release you from your promise."

"Thank you." Stan smiled small again and held the mirror out, but it was pushed back against him.

"Take it." The Beast ran one paw gently down the side of Stan's face. "If you ever get lonely, just look into it and you can relive all that happened here."

"Thank you so much." He turned and ran out of the west wing and back to his room, quickly changing back into his white t-shirt and blue jeans before running out as he slipped into his brown jacket. Kyle's black bike had been repaired by some of the servants in the castle, so Stan pulled on the scratched helmet and kick started the bike, riding off towards South Park as fast as he dared to go.

…

As Stan was running out to the motorcycle, The Beast watched from a balcony and Cartman hopped into the room he was in. A smile graced the candelabra's face, happy that the say had gone so well.

"Well, I'd say things are going great!" Cartman exclaimed. "Give it a few more days and I'll start planning the wedding with Butters! Haha!"

"There's not going to be a wedding," The Beast muttered.

"Huh? What?"

"He's gone."

"Why?"

"I let him go."

Cartman's mouth dropped, shocked. Why would he do such a thing? The spell was so close to being broken! "What the hell were you thinking? Why would you do that?"

"Because…I love him," The Beast admitted sadly. He watched with tears stinging his eyes as Stan rode away on the black motorcycle. As the man left the grounds, a sorrowful roar escaped his throat. He knew that would be the last time he ever saw Stan.


	11. He's Not Insane!

Suddenly, Stan skidded the motorcycle to a stop next to where he could see part of an orange jacket poking out of the snow. He jumped off of the bike, not even bothering to remove the black helmet. He dug the limp redhead out of the snow and turned him over in his arms.

"Kyle?" Stan yelled through the helmet, brushing the snow off of his best friend's face. "Kyle, can you hear me?" The man was still breathing, so he was still alive, it was just a matter of if he would respond.

Kyle opened his eyes part way and looked up at his friend. "S-Stan?" He asked with a scratchy voice.

Stan let out a breath of relief. He was okay, thank God! "Just hold on, I'll get you back home!" He pulled one of Kyle's arms around his shoulders and sat him down on the bike. Stan took off the helmet and put it on Kyle's head as well as put his own jacket around his shoulders, knowing that he had to keep his friend as warm as possible right then.

Ignoring the frigid cold of the winter air, Stan climbed onto the bike behind Kyle and kick started the engine again, speeding off towards South Park again. Snow and wind blew in his face, making it nearly impossible for him to tell what he was doing without the protection of the visor of the helmet, but after he turned back to the direction of his home town, he was completely fine. Him and Kyle had ridden that particular road hundreds, if not thousands of times since turning seventeen, they could ride it in the dark with no headlights - they did once, completely by accident, they didn't realize that they needed to replace both, and they just went out on a ride home one night.

Faster than he had anticipated, Stan pulled into the driveway of him and Kyle's house. He stood up and put the kickstand of the motorcycle down before picking up Kyle bridal style in his arms. He ran into the house, reassuring Kyle that he was going to be okay.

Still in the pile of snow in the corner between the house and the garage, Tweek pushed his way out as he sneezed. It had taken them long enough to get back! "Gah!" His head twitched to the side. "F-F-Finally! Time to g-go get Craig!" He ran off towards the bar.

Inside the house, Stan had laid Kyle down in his bed and had made a hand-held soup in the microwave - he poured it into a bowl though - the motorcycle helmet, Stan's jacket, and Kyle's wet clothes had been thrown to the side, replaced by a fluffy green bathrobe and a thick blanket. Stan sat next to Kyle's bed with a plaid red house-robe on over his t-shirt and blue jeans. He was still shaking a bit from the cold ride in his t-shirt but he was calming down.

As he took another drink of his soda, Kyle groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "What?" His eyes wandered over to Stan's face. "Stan?" He sat up and looked at his friend like he himself was going insane. "You're…here?"

Stan nodded and set the soda aside, grabbing the bowl of soup he made for Kyle instead. "Eat this." He held out a spoonful of the soup for him to eat.

Kyle slurped the soup from the spoon and sighed in relief. The warmth of the liquid felt good after that much time spent in the cold. He ate a few more spoonfuls of the soup before stopping Stan. "Dude, is this for real? I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

Stan chuckled. "Yeah, this is real. And before you ask," he said when Kyle opened his mouth, "you're not dead either. I found you in the snow and brought you back home."

"But…how did you escape that monster?" That was the one reason Kyle kept telling himself that it couldn't be real, Stan had been taken prisoner by a beast!

"He's not a monster," Stan said defensively, "he's really just…a misunderstood guy."

Kyle shook his head. And people called **him** crazy! "But how did you escape?"

"I didn't, he let me go." Stan smiled.

"He just…let you go? That sounds odd for someone that was determined to keep one of us prisoner only a few days ago."

"Yeah, but," his eyes became soft as he remembered the love he'd felt while dancing with The Beast, "he's changed somehow. I don't know how or why, but he's a kind, sweet guy. I just don't think he knew how to act around people because he'd been isolated for so long."

Something clicked in Kyle's mind in that moment. Could it be that Stan had fallen in love with The Beast? It couldn't be, he'd only been there for a few days. "Stan," he looked at his friend with an accusing smile, "is there something you need to tell me?"

Stan's face turned bright red. "What're you talking about?" He shoved a spoonful of soup in Kyle's mouth. "Just eat the damn soup!"

Kyle had to swallow hard to get the soup down his throat since the spoon had just been shoved into his mouth. "Thanks dude," he said sarcastically.

Stan stuck his tongue out playfully. "No problem." Both of them began laughing like always, almost as if it was just another time when one of them was sick.

Suddenly, Stan's jacket rustled and there was a muttering noise coming from where it laid in a heap on the ground. Both men looked at the jacket with some fear. What the hell was in Stan's jacket? Just as Stan set aside the soup and stood up investigate, Ike popped out from the jacket pocket with a smile.

"Holy…!" Not expecting it, Stan fell down to the ground with a startled expression etched onto his face. "Ike? What're you doing here?"

Ike hopped up onto the bed with Kyle as Stan pushed himself back onto the seat. Kyle smiled and chuckled as the tea cup hopped into his palm. "Well, I never thought I'd see you again."

"Stan," Ike looked over at the other man, "why'd you leave? Do you not like us anymore?"

"It's nothing like that Ike," Stan said, shaking his head. "Of course I still like you guys."

"Then why?"

"It's…complicated. You wouldn't understand unless you were older."

"Oh…"

Kyle's eyes narrowed as the motion activated street lights around their house came on, flooding through the window facing the front yard. It was unusual for anyone to be out after dark, especially around him and Stan's house. "Stan, someone's outside."

Stan stood up and looked out of the window, his eyes widening when he saw a large white van and a large mob of people, led by Craig, Tweek, and some man with black hair. "Um," he looked at Kyle again for a moment, "stay here for a minute, I'll go see what's going on."

"Who's outside?" Kyle called as his friend left his bedroom for the living room.

Stan ignored the question as he continued for the front door. Something wasn't right, no one went out after dark and there had never been a mob that size gathered around one specific area. And just who was the man with the black hair? Hesitantly, Stan unlocked the door and opened it.

"What do you want, Craig?" He asked with hostility. Craig was the last person on Earth he wanted to see, especially after the wonderful past few days he'd had.

But Craig just gestured to the black haired man standing next to him. "I am Damien. Is Kyle Broflosky home?"

Stan's eyes narrowed, he didn't trust the man, but he nodded and said, "Yes, he's here. He's sick right now though, so if you wanna talk to him, come back later."

Damien laughed evilly, as if amused by Stan's statement. "Of course he's sick, that's why we've come." He moved one of his arms and two burly men shoved Stan to the side and walked into Kyle's room, grabbing him, kicking and screaming, and dragging him with them back outside. "You see, he's not well enough to be allowed to live outside of an asylum."

"No!" Stan tried to run forward to stop the two men from taking Kyle away, but was caught by both Craig and Tweek. "Let him go! He's not insane! Let Kyle **go**!"

"Stan," Kyle screamed, trying to fight off the two men but failing - (they seriously weren't even concerned with it, they just kept walking towards the van), "help me! Let go! Help!"

"Let him go, dammit!" Stan then turned his attention to Craig and a ridiculous thought popped into his head: maybe Craig could help. "Craig," he gripped onto the front of his suitor's jacket, "tell them to let him go! You know he's not really insane!"

"But of course," Craig responded with a sly smile. Everything was going just as he planned.

Stan threw both of his arms in the direction of the van that Kyle was being dragged to. "Then **help**!"

"If you agree to my terms," Craig wrapped an arm around Stan's shoulders, "I can make all of this go away."

His eyes narrowed and he ground his teeth. Things were starting to look bad - not that they weren't already bad, but it was getting progressively worse. "What?"

Craig looked at the man he was certain he was going to marry that night. "You have to agree to marry me."

Stan's eyes widened and he shoved Craig away from him. "What?"

"Become my husband and Kyle goes free!"

"Never!"

Craig ground his teeth; Stan wouldn't agree even to save his best friend, that meant there was no chance of getting him to ever marry him. "Then your friend goes to the asylum!"

"On what grounds is he being committed anyway?" Stan demanded.

"He ran into the bar yelling about a beast kidnapping you," Craig said angrily. "A bunch of bull–"

"He's telling the truth about The Beast!" Stan announced at the top of his lungs, making sure everyone could hear. Everyone stopped, even the two men dragging Kyle, and looked back at Stan.

"What?" Craig began to laugh, allowing everyone else to laugh as well. "You're defending something as **stupid** as that? A beast would've eaten you alive if it had kidnapped you!"

"He would never do anything like that! He's a kind, sweet–"

"I've heard enough!" Craig yelled. He looked over at the two men dragging Kyle with them. "Take him away!"

As Kyle's screams for help started again, Stan ran back into the house for the mirror The Beast had given him. It was the only way to prove that Kyle wasn't insane, the only way to save him from being committed to an asylum. He grabbed the mirror off of the nightstand next to Kyle's bed, taking it from under Ike, and ran back outside.

"Kyle's telling the truth, and I can prove it!" Stan yelled, catching everyone's attention again. Craig didn't look amused at all, while beside him, Tweek was starting to laugh hysterically, saying something about the crazy rubbing off on Stan. "Show me The Beast!" He yelled at the mirror.

The crowd gasped as the mirror's surface glowed and showed The Beast roaring with sadness and sorrow at the night sky.


	12. Kill the Beast

_I am unable to get out of the driveway to get to class thanks to the snow, so yaays!_

…

Through the mirror, everyone around could see The Beast and hear his sorrowful roars. Of course, people didn't see the roars as sorrowful; they saw them as the hostile roars of an untamed monster. Something that needed to be killed.

"What is it?" Someone yelled.

"It's a monster!" A woman's voice screamed.

"No," Stan reassured as he walked forward towards the crowd of people, "he's not a monster! He's a kind, sweet guy. He'd never do anything to hurt anyone!"

Craig's eyes narrowed as he snatched the mirror from Stan's hand. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you had feelings for that creature!"

He ground his teeth together and tried to take the mirror back. "Give that back Craig!"

Craig glared at The Beast through the mirror as if he could be seen. It really was a disgusting, revolting monster! "This thing will steal the children and eat their flesh!"

As some of the women screamed, Stan yelled, "No, he would never!"

"It'll come to our town and tear it apart! No one will be spared!"

"No! Listen to me," he yelled as loud as he could. "The Beast would never do **anything** like that! He really is a kind guy, please believe me!"

Craig grabbed Stan's wrist and pulled him back. "Listen to this lunatic," he shoved Stan back at the house, "he's as crazy as Broflosky! This thing is a monster, a **beast**!" He walked forward into the crowd as the two men dropped Kyle to the ground; he wasn't insane, that much was clear. "We're not safe until it's dead!"

The townspeople pumped their fists into the air and yelled in agreement. Stan's eyes went wide and he pushed himself from where he had been shoved against the wall and ran over to Kyle to help him up from the ground. Everyone was just listening to Craig because all they could see in the mirror was a monster roaring at the night sky, they didn't and couldn't see or hear the anguish and heartbreak that Stan knew was there. He felt awful for being the reason The Beast sounded that way, but there was no time to dwell on it. He had to make them understand that The Beast wasn't going to harm them!

"Wait!" He ran up behind Craig and tried to take the mirror back, but failing to do so. "Somebody, please, believe me," he begged, "The Beast is harmless!"

Angered by yet another outburst, Craig grabbed Stan's wrist again, tight this time. "In concern for his friend, Stan has forgotten the cruelty he must've endured while in that monster's clutches!" He dragged Stan over to the garage door and threw it open. "Him and his friend are to stay in here until we return with The Beast's head!" He threw Stan inside, not caring that the man hit a metal workbench after stumbling inside.

"Kill The Beast!" Everyone yelled as Tweek and another man threw Kyle inside of the garage next to Stan.

Stan ran forward as the garage door was pulled closed and locked with the manual lock from the outside. "NO!" He threw his fists against the metal door. No, they couldn't kill him!

Kyle ran over to the door leading to the inside of the house and tried opening it, but it had been locked too. Neither of them had even had a single thought to grab their house keys, so they were trapped inside of the garage. "Dammit!" He ran his left shoulder into the door as he twisted the doorknob, but it didn't budge. "Stan…" He looked over to see his friend slamming his side into the garage door. "Stan stop!" He ran over to Stan and grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him from running into the metal door again.

"But Kyle," Stan couldn't stop from shaking as he felt tears stinging his eyes, "we have to get out! We have to stop them from hurting him! They're gonna kill him! He…He doesn't deserve that!"

Kyle bit his bottom lip. "Stan, you love him…don't you?"

Stan looked back at his friend as a single tear fell from his eye and down his cheek. Yes, he did love The Beast, it had been painful to leave him alone in that castle, but Kyle had needed him more than anyone else in the moment he left. He only now regretted leaving because it was going to cost The Beast his life. "We have to get out of here."

Seeing the look of sadness of his friend's eyes made Kyle start looking around the garage for anything that might help them escape. All of his screwdrivers, the one thing they were sure they could count on to get out were gone, with his machine out at The Beast's castle. When he realized that, he ground his teeth together angrily. Just perfect! How were they supposed to get out now?

"Kyle!" Stan called from near the garage door. "I found something!" He picked up a wooden handled sledgehammer from where it sat in the corner wrapped in a cobweb. No one had used the thing for some time. Stan lifted it so that he was holding it in both hands; a smirk crossed his face. "Sledgehammer time!"

Normally Kyle would have laughed at that, but now was too serious of a moment to laugh. He smirked as well as he watched Stan turn to one of the metal bars the garage door was held up when closed with and swung the sledgehammer across it, snapping it in two. The left half of the garage door came loose, bringing the entire door down onto the pavement of the driveway.

Both men blinked in surprise; that was easier than they thought it was going to be! Stan dropped the sledgehammer when he saw Kyle's motorcycle, completely trashed from where Craig and Tweek had disabled it. The fuel and brake lines were cut, the front and back tires slashed, and the handlebars broken off of it.

"My bike!" Kyle's mouth fell to the ground. That bike had been really expensive and they destroyed it!

"Come on," Stan grabbed Kyle's hand and began pulling him behind him towards the shed in the backyard, "we still have the one in the shed." He opened the two doors of the sheet metal shed to show a mustard yellow motorcycle that hadn't been used in a long time. The two actually bought it just in case one their bikes had to undergo repairs. Because they never used it too often, they didn't bother messing with a paint job.

They both grabbed the black helmets set to the side, brushed the cobwebs out of them, and pulled them on. Stan kick started the engine as he threw one leg over the seat and sat down, Kyle behind him with his arms wrapped around his torso.

Once he was sure that Kyle wasn't going to fall off when he went, Stan revved the motorcycle's engine and pulled the bike out of the shed and backyard as fast as it would go. Before they knew it they were on the path leading to The Beast's castle, Stan praying that they could get there in time to stop Craig from killing him.


	13. Kenny

Craig landed on the ground on the other side of the wrought iron gate surrounding The Beast's castle, Tweek beside him. The gates wouldn't open, no matter how hard they tried, so everyone had to scale them in order to gain access to the castle grounds. Craig stood up from the crouch he landed in and smirked at the black bricked castle in front of him. The Beast's roars couldn't be heard anymore, he wasn't on the balcony anymore.

…

In the castle, Pip, Cartman, and Butters were standing near a window talking and complaining about The Beast's choice to let Stan leave. None of them were happy, afraid that they'd be stuck as objects forever. When they saw the people scaling the gate, Butters nearly panicked, freaking out about them burning down the castle. Cartman took control of the situation when he saw the trusted advisor was useless, gathering everyone except for Pip, who went hopping up the stairs to the west wing get tell The Beast, to barricade the front doors.

…

Craig pointed at the doors of the castle when everyone was on the other side of the gate. "Break down the doors!"

Yelling, the townspeople rushed the doors, colliding in a huge mass against it. It moved a bit, opening a little for half a moment before closing again. On Craig's instruction, the group backed up and rushed the door again.

…

Pip hopped into The Beast's room, he was just staring at the wilting rose. It was missing half of the petals, they had turned to the ash sitting beneath where the rose was floating in under the glass container. "Sir, people from the town are attacking the castle."

"I don't care," The Beast said as he looked out of the window at the softly falling snow, "let them come."

…

"Dammit!" Cartman said as the doors opened for a brief moment as the townspeople rushed them again. Him and Butters had gathered everyone they could to barricade the doors, and oddly enough it was harder than they had anticipated to keep the townspeople out.

"Oh hamburgers… E-Eric," Butters said from near the top of the mass of furniture, "this isn't w-working."

"I know that Butters!" Cartman yelled back. What now? They couldn't hold out for too much longer like this. His mind was racing, trying to think of something, anything to get the townspeople to go away. Right after the doors threatened to open once again, Cartman got an idea. "Hey, I have an idea!"

…

Craig ground his teeth together. It was taking too long to break the door down! Was something blocking it? It didn't matter though, it eventually had to come down. He pointed at the door. "You're getting close, keep going!"

The crowd of people backed up and rushed the doors once again. That time they gave way without resistance, the townspeople poured through the doorway to a long dark hall filled with furniture and small trinkets. A candelabra stood next to a small wooden clock.

Craig pushed his way past everyone so that he would be at the front of the mass of people. He looked around the main hall scrutinizing the supposed décor. Was The Beast redecorating? What a joke! "Take anything you want, kill anyone you see." He started stalking forward, towards the staircase. "But The Beast is mine!"

Behind him, Tweek grabbed the dimly lit candelabra, not noticing it had a face until the entire room lit up and Cartman yelled, "Now!"

Right then, all of the furniture came to life, attacking the people without mercy in a scene of chaos. Drawers of two dressers bashed in one of the heads of the townspeople caught between them. Cartman forced the flames on top of his head and hands to flare, burning Tweek's face and causing the caffeine addict to drop him. Token jumped down from the staircase leading to the east wing, squishing the top half of someone unfortunate enough to be standing there.

As the chaos around him began, Craig stopped to register what exactly was going on. The furniture was alive! And in addition, they were attacking the townspeople! That was hard to believe even though he was seeing it himself. (Not even that large of a group could've told him that and expected him to believe it, it would've been too farfetched.) Shaking his head, he ran up the stairs and turned right, to the west wing, after noting that side looked more torn apart, the ideal place for a beast to be hiding.

While he walked down the corridor of broken doors, ceilings, and floors, Craig pulled a handgun from where it had been "holstered" in the waistband of his pants. As he neared the end of the hall, where the only closed door that was in one piece could be seen, he slowed his walk down so that it would be silent against the wood floor.

Once he reached the door, he slowly opened it, stiffening when it made the slightest creaking noise. When he was sure nothing was going to attack him, he sidestepped into the room, cocking the gun when he saw the back of The Beast.

At the sound of a gun cocking, The Beast looked back at Craig with saddened eyes for a brief moment. He was there to kill him, that much was obvious, but unlike usual, he wasn't going to fight it. With Stan gone forever, there was no reason for him to continue on. The Beast turned his attention back out of the window to the falling snow.

Craig's eyes narrowed. Not even a bit of a fight? That was no fun, though it did make things easier. Fluidly, he pointed the gun at The Beast and pulled the trigger. As the bullet entered The Beast's left shoulder, he cried out in a roaring pain and automatically turned around to lash out at Craig with his claws.

Dropping his gun, Craig dodged The Beast's claws and ran forward, plowing his head into The Beast's side, throwing his arms around his waist as he did. The two crashed through the window and landed on the flat roof overlooking the front of the castle and the still closed gate. The Beast rolled nearly to the far edge of the roof, only stopping when he grabbed one of the many gargoyles with his right arm. He tried to push himself up but the pain from the bullet wound in his shoulder was too much, he just fell back down.

"So, beast," Craig grabbed a loose spiked stone tail of one of the gargoyles and pulled it off, holding it as a mace, "did you think you could keep him to yourself?" He stalked over to The Beast and raised he broken spiked stone tail of the gargoyle above his head to strike.

"Craig, stop!" Stan's voice resonated from near the now open gate as he cut the engine of the motorcycle and stepped off of it with Kyle.

The Beast looked down at Stan as he pulled his helmet off and looked up at the scene in horror. "S-Stan?"

Craig smirked as he saw Stan. Perfect! He could see the execution of the monster for himself! "It's over! Die you monster!" He brought the makeshift mace down to strike The Beast dead, but found it caught in his hands.

Ignoring the searing pain of the bullet wound, The Beast pushed Craig back towards the broken window, roaring as he went. Since he wasn't expecting The Beast to fight back, Craig stumbled back with wide eyes as he was pushed towards the window. He lost his footing and tumbled down the side of the roof, bringing The Beast with him. The two landed on a part of the roof that had been turned into a walkway of sorts, lined by gargoyles on either side.

By the time Craig pushed himself up, The Beast had hidden himself amongst the gargoyles, blending in easily. Craig brought down the mace on the first thing he saw that resembled his target, finding him bringing the head off of a stone gargoyle instead of The Beast.

He ground his teeth together and stalked forward, taking the head off of every second gargoyle or so. "Do you think you can hide forever?" He brought the mace down on another gargoyle head. "Did you love him? Is that it, **beast**?" He stalked right past where The Beast was hiding in plain view. "Why would choose you when he has someone like **me**?"

Angered for the first time, The Beast silently stalked behind Craig, roaring at him. The man needed to learn to leave things alone when they were fine, even if that meant with his death. Craig turned and lashed out with the mace, finding The Beast catching it and tearing it from his grip without difficulty.

Craig's eyes widened as the mace was thrown over the edge of the roof and into a canyon on the west end of the castle. "Shit!" He turned to try and run, but The Beast caught the front of his dark blue jacket and held him out above the edge of the roof, over the canyon. "No! Don't let me go! Please," he begged, "I wanna live!"

The Beast ground his teeth together. Craig was begging for his life after trying to kill him? That lowlife didn't deserve to live! "You don't deserve life!"

"No! No! Please don't!"

"Beast!" Stan ran out onto the roof where The Beast and Craig fell from and looked at the scene below him with horror. Craig was unbelievable, but he didn't deserve to die, at least not yet.

The Beast looked between Stan and Craig, considering still dropping the man but not wanting Stan to see it. He held his eyes on Stan for a few moments longer than before and felt his anger wash away. He couldn't kill Craig, not in front of the man he loved. The Beast moved the arm holding Craig and dropped the dark-haired man onto the roof. When Craig looked up at The Beast, he said, "Get out." He turned and started climbing back up the side of the roof towards Stan.

Stan hit his knees and reached out with one hand to The Beast. He smiled softly as he was given a smile by The Beast.

He grabbed onto Stan's hand gently as he reached the top of the roof. "You came back." He cupped Stan's cheek with his other hand.

Stan leaned his head against The Beast's hand with a warm smile. "Of course I came back. I couldn't just let them kill you."

"Stan…" As The Beast moved to push himself onto the roof, he roared in pain. Craig had drove a dagger deep into The Beast's side, causing what he hoped was a fatal wound.

Scared of the sudden painful roar, Stan pulled The Beast up onto the roof next to him as Craig drew the dagger out of The Beast's side and fell down onto the lower part of the roof again before tumbling down into the canyon with a scream.

As he was gasping for breath, reacting off of instinct, The Beast's vision was fading. Whatever that dagger had hit had been a vital organ, the wound was fatal. "You…You came back…"

"I had to, I didn't want you to…" Stan bit his bottom lip, he just couldn't bring himself to say "die." He gripped onto The Beast's shirt with one hand and used his other hand to brush his love's cheek. "This is my fault, I should've stopped Craig."

"No," The Beast brought his hand up again to cup Stan's face, "don't say that." He gasped for another breath. "It's not your fault."

A stray tear ran down Stan's cheek. This couldn't be happening, The Beast couldn't be dying! _It's just a bad injury, nothing fatal,_ Stan reassured himself. "Come on, let's get you inside. I'll bandage that for you, you'll be okay."

The Beast shook his head. "N-No…Stan, don't worry about it." He drew in a sharp breath and smiled again as he felt Stan's hand against his own. "It's too late."

Stan squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to hold back his tears but having a hard time of it. "Don't say that dammit." He shook his head. "You're gonna be okay."

The Beast ran his hand down Stan's face as his arm fell limp to his side. "I'm just glad that your face is the last thing I see." His vision went black as the life left his body.

"Hey," Stan gripped onto The Beast's shirt and began shaking him, "wake up. Come on dude, this isn't funny." He shook The Beast harder. "Please don't die!"

Pip, Cartman, and Butters entered The Beast's room - the remaining townspeople had finally been chased away when they realized they weren't going to win the battle - in time to see the final petal on the rose fall. They stopped at the edge of the broken window as Stan collapsed on top of The Beast's body in tears. He was dead? Stan was too late in admitting his love to save them, they would forever be cursed.

Unable to hold back his tears any longer, Stan allowed the sobs to wrack his body. He glanced up at The Beast's calm, peaceful face as he muttered, "I love you."

For a few moments, nothing happened as Stan cried over The Beast's dead body, but suddenly there was a bright light and The Beast was lifted into the air by nothing. Stan scrambled back, unsure of what exactly was going on, actually it kind of scared him.

As Stan stared up at him, scared at what was going on, The Beast was suddenly surrounded in the same bright light that had shined a moment ago. He could see as The Beast transformed, his furred arms changed to thin pale skinned arms, his legs, unable to be seen very well under the pant legs, thinned out and lost the fur. The fur covering his body disappeared, replaced by spiked blonde hair. His face suddenly had pale skin, became soft and had a sharp nose. Slowly, he was lowered back to the roof.

Stan watched in shock as the man stood up, staring at his hands and then down at himself for a minute before facing Stan. His blue eyes were now narrowed, carrying a mixed look of confusion and calm.

"Stan," the man walked over to Stan and held out a hand to help him up, "it's me."

Confused, Stan took the helping hand and stood up, staring into the man's eyes. He found it hard to believe, but it could see the definite resemblance between The Beast and that man in his eyes and in his stance. He rested his hands on the man's shoulders. "It is you…but…how?"

The man laughed and wrapped his arms around Stan. "It doesn't matter. Just tell me one thing: Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?"

Stan flushed light red. "Y-Yeah, of course I did." He turned his eyes downward. There was no way he loved him in return, it was just a futile admission.

The man grabbed Stan's chin and forced him to look at him. "Then you deserve to know something." He smiled. "My name is Kenny, and I love you too."

Stan smiled. "Kenny… I like that name." He wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck and brought their lips together. Kenny tightened his arms around Stan and intensified the kiss.

Around them, the bright light shone again, this time surrounding the castle. Black brick turned to alabaster, the black tiles of the roof turned bright red, and the gargoyles lining the edges of the roof turned to alabaster angels glancing down onto the garden and looking at the sky above.

Kenny and Stan looked around with their arms still wrapped around each other. It was amazing how much things suddenly changed in only a few moments! They turned to walk back through the still broken window in time to see Pip, Butters, and Cartman all surrounded with the same bright light that had changed everything else.

Kenny ran forward as he saw his servants change back to their human selves. Cartman turned into a fat man with short brown hair, wearing a red down jacket and baggy blue jeans. Butters became a thin man with short blonde hair, wearing a light blue coat and tight dark green pants. Pip turned into a thin man with shoulder length blonde hair, wearing a dark gray beret, tight red jacket, and gray shorts that reached his knees. All three of them looked disoriented from the sudden transformation, each holding their heads as if they had a headache.

"Cartman," Kenny grabbed all three of their necks excitedly in his arms, "Pip, Butters! Wow, it's amazing!"

"Guys!" Ike, still a tea cup, hopped into the room in time to change into a thin teenager with short black hair, wearing a light blue t-shirt and baggy white pants. "Look at the castle!"

Stan chuckled as he walked into the room. "I never thought I'd see you guys like this."

Kenny released the three others and walked back over to Stan, resting his hands on his shoulders as he did. "It's all thanks to you. You broke the spell placed on the castle! We're human again!" He connected their lips excitedly. It felt wonderful to be human again, to finally be able to touch and kiss Stan like he'd been wanting to ever since they met.

…

_I wanna do an epilogue for this to make the ending more final, but I'm not sure. What do y'all think?_


	14. Epilogue

_A Week Later…_

"Ugh," Stan groaned as he looked at himself in the mirror, "not another freakin' suit…" Token - now a thin dark-skinned man in a purple t-shirt and black jeans - and Kyle both managed to get Stan into another suit, though the new one was black. They had both thought he'd prefer it to the brown one he had worn a week ago.

"Will you calm down?" Kyle tied a red tie around Stan's neck with a sigh.

"If you keep complaining, we'll put you in the brown suit again," Token threatened.

Stan's shoulders slumped. Not the brown suit again! "Anything but that, please."

Kyle and Token both chuckled. Stan was nervous, they could tell, and he wasn't concealing it well. Butters was supposed to come upstairs to get him shortly, and they figured that since he was aware of it, it was making him more anxious.

"Stan," Kyle gently pushed Stan down onto the edge of the bed so that he would sit, "you need to sit down and stop worrying."

Stan grabbed the lapels of Kyle's black suit with wide, worry-filled eyes. "I can't! I'm worried that something is gonna go wrong!"

"Stan," Kyle and Token both said as they pealed Stan's hands off of Kyle's suit, "calm down!"

In that moment, Butters knocked on the door and stepped inside, showing the trio in the room his light blue suit. "Um, Stan, i-it's time."

With some help since his legs had turned to rubber at Butters' words, Stan made his way down the hall and to the top of the stairs leading to the east wing. He gripped onto the banister as he felt his head swimming. Below in the main hall, he could hear the slow beginning of a wedding march. His stomach was in knots, his nerves reaching an all time high. The thought of marrying Kenny made him happy, but the ceremony was what made his stomach do back flips.

"Stan," Butters gave Stan a gentle push to start him down the stairs, "go down the stairs."

Stan took a breath and slowly made his way down the stairs, turning bright red as the people stood up and turned to face him. His stomach still tied into knots, he walked forward, down the aisle as calmly as possible. When he saw Kenny, in a red-orange suit, turn around with a smile aimed towards him, he felt his anxiety wash away. It was right to do this, it was right to marry Kenny.

When he reached Kenny, they grabbed onto each others' hands and looked into each others' eyes. Once they forced themselves to look away from each other, they looked at the man in front of them, the man who was going to marry them. As the man went through the ceremonious words and guided the two nerve wracked men through their vows, Kenny couldn't help but wonder how he got so lucky. At first he had only planned to use Stan as a way to have the spell broken, he never planned on falling so much in love that he would be willing to commit his life to a man he only met a week or so ago.

The man closed the stark white book in his hands that he had read the vows from. "I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."

Enthusiastically, Kenny and Stan threw their arms around each other and kissed passionately. For the rest of their days, come hell or high water, they would have each other. And that was exactly what they wanted.


End file.
